


The Haunting of Stephen Colbert

by crackerscheese



Category: Colbert Report RPF, Fake News RPF, Pundit RPF, Pundit RPF (US)
Genre: Gen, Ghosts, Horror
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-22
Updated: 2013-07-22
Packaged: 2017-12-09 03:55:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 11,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/769677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crackerscheese/pseuds/crackerscheese
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stephen Colbert's world turns upside down when a ghost starts haunting him, then mysteriously goes away. Life goes back to normal, except Stephen's acting oddly and his staff starts to suffer because of it. Jon Stewart decides to take responsibility into his own hands and tries to get Stephen back to normal, but getting rid of a ghost is easier said than done.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Stephen Colbert adjusted his suit as he finally arrived at makeup. He smiled at the makeup artist as she did his make up. He shooed her away when she was done though, claiming that he needed some time to get into character for the show tonight.

He leaned back on his chair, relaxing as he closed his eyes to concentrate. He was beginning to become “Stephen” when suddenly the temperature dropped twenty degrees. He thought nothing of it, but when he felt goosebumps appear on his arms through his suit he knew he had to do something.

He opened his eyes, popped his head out of the dressing room, yelled, “Can someone turn off the AC in here?”, and hoped that someone took care of it. When he went back inside the room though, it was colder than before. In fact it was so cold that he could see his breath in front of his face and condensation clouded the huge mirror that took up one side of the small room.

Stephen debated over getting into character from somewhere that was considerably warmer, but he knew that the dressing room was the quietest place in the studio at the moment and therefore the best place to focus. He decided that he would make it as quick as possible so he’d have a chance to warm up before the show.

He settled back into his chair and was about to close his eyes again when he spotted a dripping line of red on the mirror. When he looked closer, he saw that the line was getting wider and longer as seconds pass. At first glance it looked like red paint but it seemed way too thick to be paint, it was more like...blood?

Stephen shook his head. It couldn’t be blood, could it? How could it be blood dripping down the mirror, of all things? Stephen didn’t believe in ghosts or the supernatural and he won’t start now. He decided it was a joke, a bit of a weird one at that, but it is to be expected when you work on a comedy show. He’ll wait it out and laugh with the rest of the writers about it over coffee tomorrow morning.

Suddenly the line stopped dripping down. Stephen sighed in relief, he was beginning to get a little concerned. The show wasn’t over though. Another line of dark red appeared, going horizontal instead of vertical like the first line. Stephen watched as the line magically streak across a small part of the mirror intersecting with the first line where it started and continued across for a while before stopping, making a T on one side of mirror.

Before Stephen could dismiss it as another part of the joke, a line parallel to the second appeared and intersected the end of the first line before ending, which all now appeared as an I on the mirror.

Stephen blinked furiously, trying to see if this was a dream. It seemed less and less like it was an elaborate joke, but Stephen held on to the theory because it was better than the one that seemed more and more like the truth: A ghost or something like it was communicating with him. He refused to believe in the supernatural, and he’ll hang on to the joke theory until something more logical comes along. And saying it was supernatural is certainly not the most logical theory out there.

He absentmindedly swatted away the clouds of white his breath made in front of his face as he stared intently as a curved line made an apostrophe beside the I. Letter by letter Stephen watched transfixed as a single sentence gradually developed across the mirror in capital letters: I’M COMING FOR YOU.

Stephen felt the first tendrils of fear root themselves inside his heart. It was beginning to get really creepy staying in this room and despite his earlier misjudgements, it seemed like the supernatural theory is holding water. If that theory is true that means there might possibly be a ghost haunting him, and Stephen couldn’t will himself to believe that. This all had to be a joke.

To quell his fears, he stood up, reached a hesitant hand forward and swiped a bit of the dark red substance that created the lines on the mirror onto a finger. He brought the finger to his lips, tasting what he hoped was red paint or something similar on his tongue. It wasn’t; he tasted the iron and knew it was blood.

He jerked back, panicking as his fears were confirmed. A ghost was probably haunting him. Despite the overwhelming facts in its favor, Stephen couldn’t bring himself to believe in ghosts. So he fell back to his previous theory, despite how many holes it has.

“This is all a joke. This is not real.” Stephen repeated this mantra as he stepped back until the wall prevented him to do so. Even as he spoke he knew his protests were weak. This was happening whether he believed it or not. He still couldn’t believe it though.

Suddenly a dark voice came from thin air but seemed to be whispering into his working ear. _“So you still don’t believe, eh? Let’s see what I can do about that...”_ The voice, which was low and raspy, cast a shadow of fear into his heart. He didn’t have time to delve into that further because the mirror chose that moment to start to crack. The cracks quickly created tiny chasms within the mirror and Stephen barely had a few seconds to take cover before the mirror, fully cracked, shatters. Tiny chips spilled across the floor as Stephen screamed in utter terror.

At that moment Stephen knew that there was indeed a ghost haunting him, and it had just talked to him. He didn’t have time to have a panic attack because the door burst open, and several interns came into the room.

“Stephen, are you alright? We heard you scream and came here right away,” a intern said. They certainly looked like they came right away, they were panting and sweating as if they ran a marathon before coming here.

He glanced at the mirror, debating whether or not to tell them about his haunting. To his surprise there was no evidence of his encounter with the ghost. The shards of glass that were across the floor were instead back in their rightful places as part of the unshattered and not blood streaked mirror on the wall.

Stephen stared at the mirror in shock for a few seconds and it took an intern snapping his fingers in Stephen’s face to revive him. “Stephen. Stephen. Stephen!”

“Wha? Hm?” Stephen muttered distractedly, trying to calm any leftover fears he had. He was going to host a comedy show in less than a half hour after all. He can’t be scared out of his mind while doing a joke.

“Are you okay?” another intern asked.

“Sure, yeah,” Stephen answered a bit untruthfully. He stood up and stumbled a little, and an intern caught him as he fell. The interns all looked at Stephen in concern as he walked out of the room.

“Are you okay?” One intern asked again. “You looked a little pale.”

Stephen smiled, trying to ease their concerns. “I’ll be alright,” he promised. “I’ll just get into character elsewhere.”

With that Stephen walked away, in a rush to get as far away from the dressing room as possible. He’ll deal with whatever happen over there later, right now he has a show to do.

***888***888***

The show was going great tonight. The laughs and chuckles he got from the audience helped him forget about what happened in the dressing room. He was beginning to believe that whatever he saw was just a crazy daydream he had. There is some evidence to support that, like the fact that there was no sign that anything he saw in the room actually happened.

He didn’t let these thoughts distract him from hosting the _Colbert Report_ though, he only let his thoughts wander in the breaks. By the second break he decided that he probably did daydream the whole ordeal. That’s when the temperature of the room dropped twenty degrees.

“Oh no,” Stephen whispered, knowing bad things were going to happen. He knew that the stage lights overhead are supposed to make him sweat, not make him feel that his heart is made of ice.

As the makeup artist attended to him Stephen decided to talk about the sudden cold. “Do you think it’s cold in here?” he asked.

She looked at him like he was insane. “Of course I don’t. It’s always a bit stuffy in here, remember?” When Stephen didn’t respond, she asked hesitantly, “Stephen, are you okay? You’re not sick, are you?” She tried to reach out a hand to touch his forehead but Stephen swatted it away.

Stephen shook his head and pushed her slightly away. “I’m fine, not sick at all. Just forget I even asked that, alright?” he asked, and she nodded before scurrying away.

Stephen started to shuffle some papers across the desk when the room got even colder, and Stephen was starting to develop a slight shiver when he noticed that no one else was affected by the change in temperature like he was. Going by what the makeup artist said, it seemed like he was the only one who felt the cold. He wondered idly if he was daydreaming again but was interrupted by the director signalling they had ten seconds before they start filming again.

Stephen settled into character, and launched into a comedic rant about the news of the day as usual. Throughout the piece though, there was a small tendril of fear in his heart. He didn’t understand where it came from, but he knew it was related to the cold surrounding him. The sense of fear grew and grew until Stephen paused mid-sentence, gripped into a sudden bout of paralysing fear. The crew looked at him, wondering if something is wrong with him when it happened.

For one second Stephen felt a flash of anger; not his, but a higher, more powerful being’s; engulf him before the feeling disappeared. In that very same second a stagelight from the ceiling fell, impacting the ground between Stephen’s desk and the interview table.

Everyone paused for a moment, shocked, before going into action. The crew got started on taking the light away from the stage, security dealt with the audience, and the director told the cameraman to stop filming and began working out whether or not they’ll finish filming the show.

Stephen, however, was the only one who wasn’t moving. He stared dead ahead at some random seat in the crowd. He was in shock; the fear and the anger that he had felt appearing all of the sudden scared him to death. There was no doubt something severely wrong was happening around here.

Enough of his fear had vanished that he looked down at his desk’s glass countertop, which looked fogged over. He jerked back a bit as a sentence suddenly appeared on the countertop: THIS IS NOT A JOKE.

After seeing what he’s seen in the last hour Stephen knew the sentence on the glass told the truth. He was being haunted, by a violent ghost from what he’s seen. When the director told him that the show will go on as planned, Stephen should have been elated, but he was scared.

If the ghost, or whatever it is, can wreck this amount of havoc around this studio just to prove a point, what would it do when he’s truly angry? Stephen didn’t want to find out, but from the way things are going he knew he would soon.

TO BE CONTINUED


	2. Chapter 2

Stephen didn’t sleep much that night.

He tried, though, but after waking up screaming after another nightmare he decided to abandon the attempt. Instead he stayed awake, on alert for any suspicious sounds. He didn’t know if the ghost was attached to him or to the Report studio, so he had to stay on guard.

Staying up all night had it’s consequences though, as Stephen realized the next morning. He was so tired when he came to work that he couldn't stay awake for five minutes of the morning writers meeting without dozing off for awhile. That’s when the writers became concerned.

“Stephen, did you sleep at all last night?” Rob asked when Stephen almost dozed again, using both hands to lift his head when he couldn’t hold it up any longer.

Stephen shook his head, trying to shake the lingering sleepiness that hung around him like a dark storm cloud. Frank frowned at that and said, “But you said that you wanted to leave early last night, shouldn’t you have gotten more sleep?”

Stephen desperately wanted to avoid these questions because he knew that if he told them the truth they’ll laugh at him. They could tell when he is lying, so that’s out of the question. He decided to tell them as little as possible. “I was doing some things.”

“What things?” Rob asked and the other writers looked at Stephen, their eyes asking the same question. That’s when Stephen couldn’t take it anymore.

“Why do any of you care about what I did last night?” he asked in frustration. 

“You just seem on edge, that’s all,” Nate said. “We just wanted to help.” All the writers nodded, and because they seemed so concerned, Stephen decided to spill the beans.

“Something happened here last night, and I couldn’t get any sleep because of it,” Stephen began. 

The writers leaned towards Stephen, intrigued. “What happened?” Frank asked.

“I...” Stephen stopped, trying to find the words to properly explain what happened. “I'm being haunted by a ghost.”

There was a moment of silence as the writers took that in. First their faces showed shock, but soon they all collapsed into uncontrolled laughter.

“In the dressing room, the mirror, it was bleeding, and there were words, and then the mirror shattered...” Stephen rambled on, trying to explain himself.

“Is that the reason you freaked out those interns last night?” Max asked, still laughing. “Stephen, you must’ve slept and had a nap, because there’s no way that happened yesterday.”

“It did!” Stephen protested. “And that falling stage light incident, the ghost caused that too! It wrote on my desk...”

“C’mon Stephen, that was just small accident. No ‘ghostly presence’ caused that, I’m sure,” Scott reassured him, air quoting the word ‘ghostly presence’. 

Stephen frowned at the writers, who were giggling like mad. He couldn’t believe they didn’t take this seriously. He was being haunted for goodness sake, and he wasn’t going to get rid of the ghost without some help. He stood up, making his way to the door as he said, “It happened, okay? A ghost is haunting me, and I don’t care how ridiculous it sounds but it’s true!”

The writers, realizing how serious Stephen was, started to apologize, but Stephen already closed the door. He frowned as he slammed the door to his office shut and fell into his chair. 

Well, if none of the writers believed him, who would?

***888***888***

It was around noon when Jon Stewart came in to have lunch with Stephen. He opened the door hesitantly, but relaxed when he saw Stephen absentmindedly tapping his pen on his desk while staring at the New York sky.

“Jon, what are you doing here?” Stephen asked when he realized someone was in the room. They usually ate out for lunch, and Stephen wasn’t informed that those plans had changed.

“When you didn’t return my calls, I thought you were busy so I decided to have lunch here,” Jon explained as he pulled two sandwiches from a bag he brought in with him.

There was some small talk as both men unwrapped their lunch, but as soon as they started eating they fell into a comfortable silence.

The silence was broken when Jon said hesitantly, “Stephen, I heard that you thought you saw some strange activity yesterday?”

Stephen sighed, not wanting to see another person not believe him. “Not you too.”

“What?” Jon asked, now confused. “What do you mean? I just wanted to know what’s going on.”

Realizing that Jon knew absolutely nothing about last night Stephen decided to tell the whole story. “Please don’t laugh,” Stephen begged.

“I promise I won’t,” Jon swore, now looking concerned. “What happened?”

Stephen took a deep breath and said, “It all began when I went into the dressing room last night...” 

Stephen started from the beginning with the blood lined mirror and ended with the stagelight incident. Jon was silent the entire time, and stayed that way after Stephen finished. After a few minutes, Jon finally spoke. “Stephen, you know ghosts aren’t real...right?”

Stephen frowned. Even though Jon kept his promise, Stephen knew he was laughing on the inside. “They are real,” he insisted.

“They can’t be,” Jon protested. “You must have mistaken something else for a ghostly encounter.”

“I didn’t!” Stephen shouted and a small gust of wind blew into the room, which was odd because the window was closed. “The mirror, how do you explain that?”

“It must’ve been a prank Stephen, that’s all,” Jon said. When Stephen shook his head vehemently, the wind pick up and started to whip around stray hairs on both of the men’s heads. 

“How about what happen with the stage light? You can’t explain that can you?” Stephen said.

“You’re just making a big deal out of nothing,” Jon dismissed his concerns.

The angrier Stephen was, the stronger the wind became. When he yelled, “Ghosts are real!” with rage and desperation, the wind picked up immensely, now whipping whole heads of hair instead of strands. Both men didn’t notice that because the temperature dropped to one of a freezer. 

“Why is it so cold in here?” Jon asked, wrapping his arms around himself to keep warm.

“You can feel it?” Stephen asked, glad for once that the cold wasn’t affecting him only. He also knew that whatever was happening was going to affect them both, and he wasn’t so happy for that.

It was at that moment Stephen looked into the mirror that took up a corner of the office. “What the hell is that?” he exclaimed, and Jon followed his gaze and looked at the mirror also.

The mirror’s clear surface was completely covered with blackness. The blackness was beginning to ooze out of the mirror, spilling out onto the floor in the form of opaque black smog. The smog began to become a figure, a man with sharp claws for hands and no apparent feet, just a floating cloud of pitch blackness. The figure had no definite shape, the only features Jon and Stephen could see was razor sharp teeth and red, beady eyes that glowed bright like a raging fire when you looked upon them.

Jon scooted back his chair when the figure floated forwards, the one arm that reached out had black smoke rolling off it in waves. It seemed to be reaching for Stephen, who was frozen with fear, his eyes widening in terror and his hands gripping his chair’s armrest with an ironclad grip.

“Stephen!” Jon cried out, trying to shake Stephen out of this state of overwhelming fear, but it was no use. Jon watched helplessly as the figure approached Stephen, and used it’s outstretched fingers to touch Stephen forehead.

Jon vaguely heard the sound of someone screaming, it might’ve been Stephen, himself, or the both of them for all he knew, before the lights in room started to flicker. Soon, the room was plunged into darkness for a split second before returning to it’s former brightness.

The figure had disappeared, along with the cold and the wind, but the fear still lingered. Jon took several deep breaths, calming himself down before he turned and looked at Stephen, who seemed shell shocked. He was pale and sweating, eyes still focused to the place the figure was last. “What the hell was that?” he repeated breathlessly.

“I think we just saw a ghost,” Jon announced, and Stephen turned to him as if he finally realized he was there. Stephen nodded shakily, looking around the room for any sign of the ghost.

When he came up with nothing, Stephen took a deep breath to compose himself before he said, “I think it’s gone.”

Jon shook his head. “It might come back soon, and we need to be prepared--"

"No, Jon," Stephen interrupted, "I think it's really gone for good."

"How do you know?" Jon asked, not agreeing with Stephen.

"I've been feeling like I was being watched for awhile now," Stephen began.

"It's only been a day Stephen, you can't expect something like this will go in a day," Jon protested.

Stephen shook his head. "I've been feeling this way for months now, I think the ghost has been with me for awhile before it showed itself," Stephen explained. "Anyway, the feeling is gone. So is the feeling of overbearing dread I've had since last night," he added.

"But Stephen," Jon said, "I don't think a ghost like that would give up so easily."

Stephen leaned back on his chair and sighed. "Okay Jon, let's compromise. We both go on our merry way and I'll call you if anything happens, alright?"

Jon nodded but asked, "Are you sure about this?"

"Absolutely," Stephen replied, smirking. Just then, for a split second, Stephen normally dark brown eyes turned pitch black before returning to normal. Jon felt dread seep into his heart, but decided to ignore it for now. Instead he walked out of the room, taking his half eaten lunch with him.

***888***888***

Jon waited anxiously for Stephen's call because he didn't believe for a second that the ghost was gone, now that it decided to appear to them. 

He waited for a few days until he found a message on his phone that said that Stephen hadn't seen anything weird lately and that he thought he was ghost-free.

Jon still didn't believe that this ghost business was over but decided that he'll take Stephen word for it, but he stayed on guard whenever he went to the Report studio. 

After a few visits, however, he had to agree with Stephen, there was no sign of paranormal activity. It looked like the ghost was gone.

That was until Stephen started to act oddly and the Colbert Report studio became a living hell.

TO BE CONTINUED


	3. Chapter 3

It was a few weeks later when Jon was made aware that something at the Colbert Report studio was amiss. He was in the middle of a morning meeting with his writers on a beautiful Tuesday morning. They were busy discussing the news of the day and beginning to plan the day’s show when the door opened and an intern peeked inside the room.

“Jon, you have a few visitors in your office,” the intern informed Jon. The intern seemed nervous, so Jon knew that these visitors were important. But they had to wait, Jon still had a job to do.

“Can you tell them that they have to wait awhile, I have to finish this meeting--”

“No, I think you have to talk to them now,” the intern insisted. 

Jon frowned, but did as the intern suggested. He stood up, told the writers that he would be back soon and followed the intern out into the hallway. As Jon walked to his office he noticed that his staff would occasionally glanced at him and his office in worry. From the looks he was getting Jon knew that his guests were important. 

He didn’t have time to guess who they were since he was already at the door of his office. He opened the door to find...the writers of the Colbert Report sitting around his desk.

“What the hell are you guys doing here?” Jon exclaimed. Weren’t they supposed to be working?

Most of the writers just stared at him in despair. Eric, however, said, “Jon, you might want to sit down for this.”

Jon wormed his way through the throng of writers to his desk. When he got to his chair he asked, “What’s going on?”

“It’s Stephen,” Dan explained. “He’s been acting weird lately.”

“Weird how?” Jon asked, face scrunched up in confusion.

“He’s in a bad mood most of time,” Tom said, “Well, that’s what it seemed like at first, but since then it’s gotten worse and worse...”

When Jon still looked confused, Glenn decided to elaborate. “It all started when an intern brought him his coffee...”

***888***888***

A Month Ago

Stephen scanned through his script right before rehearsal. He shuffled the papers once before laying them flat against his desk. Despite the fact that the stage lights overhead made him sweat, he asked an intern to make him a coffee. 

Stephen tapped a tune out on the glass counter top with his fingers, getting more impatient every second. He talked to the intern ten minutes ago, surely it can’t that long to make coffee? When the intern came with the coffee minutes later, Stephen was aggravated enough to frown a bit as he took a gulp of coffee he’s waited so long for. That turned out to be a mistake and he spit it out immediately, spraying coffee all over the previously gleaming counter top.

Stephen took a glance at how much of a mess he’d made before slowly looking up at the intern, who now looked decidedly less confident than when she handed over the coffee. “What the hell is that?” Stephen asked, gesturing to the remainder of the coffee.

“It--It’s the coffee you ordered,” the intern, Amy, stuttered out. 

Stephen made a face and dumped what was left in the coffee cup out onto the floor beside Amy. “That,” Stephen said getting in Amy’s face, “is not the coffee I ordered.” He shook the cup, making sure there wasn’t a drop of the offensive solution left before leaning back.

“I like my coffee with two creams and three sugars,” Stephen said, “but this has two creams and two sugars!”

“Step--I--I’m sorry,” Amy mumbled, her head hanging low.

“Sorry?” Stephen repeated, standing up abruptly. “Sorry?” He slammed his palms against his desk, which attracted the attention of the various staff members that were previously bustling around the studio.

“Go make me a coffee again, and this time have three sugars instead of two!” Stephen commanded.

Amy tried to apologize again. “I--sorry--” 

“Go! Now!” Stephen shouted, and Amy stopped muttering and ran of the studio to do as Stephen commanded. “And don’t be late!” Stephen added, and as soon as Amy was out of his sight Stephen resumed looking over his script as if nothing happened.

Amy, however, was a blubbering mess by the time she got to the studio's exit. The writers that were near there intercepted her path. Meredith took her aside and said, "You don't have to get the coffee. Stephen is just being an ass."

Meredith held Amy as she cried, making sure the both of them were faced away from Stephen. She turn her head towards Stephen to glare at him as Glenn confronted Stephen.

“You didn’t have to do that, you know,” Glenn said.

Stephen glanced up at him, his expression nonchalant. “Do what?”

“Yell at Amy for a cup of coffee!” Glenn exclaimed and Stephen suddenly was indignant again.

“She made it wrong!” Stephen said. “And she was late!”

“You should apologize to her,” Glenn said.

“Go away,” Stephen repeated, scowling.

Glenn continued, “Amy didn’t deserve to be treated that way--”

“Yes she did!” Stephen exclaimed, outraged. “She messed up my coffee, she deserved what she got! Now go away!”

The staff that were in the studio stepped back instinctively, not used to seeing Stephen’s fury. Glenn stepped back as well, hands raised. “Alright, you don’t have to get all riled up about it.”

As Glenn stepped back he saw, just for a second, Stephen’s eyes become black. He didn’t think much of it though, and decided to ignore it.

***888***888***

Present 

“That’s...wow,” Jon said after Glenn finished. He was as surprised as the writers that Stephen got so angry over something as simple as coffee. Stephen rarely was angry at all actually, which makes the coffee incident even more odd. He wondered why Stephen got so riled up, or if that was Stephen at all...

“He was like that with the interns for around two weeks,” Scott said, “We thought he was just in a bad mood but--”

“It got worse,” finished Rob in misery.

“You see Jon,” Eric explained, “He came for us too...”

***888***888***

Two Weeks Ago

Stephen was scribbling furiously onto one of the papers that littered his desk in his office. The door creaked open, and Eric came into the room.

"Here's tonight's script," Eric announced as he placed a stack of papers onto Stephen's desk.

Stephen took one glance the script before he said, "I don't like it."

"What?" Eric exclaimed, outraged. "You haven't even looked at it yet!"

Stephen took a moment to glance up at Eric before going back to scribbling on his papers.

Eric sighed. "Okay, then. Why don't you like the script?"

Stephen stopped writing and looked at Eric fully. "It has the wrong font."

"It has the wrong..." Eric repeated incredulously. "You must be kidding. Tell me you're joking."

Stephen crossed his arms and glared at Eric, which meant he was really serious.

"The script has always been in this font, and you have always been okay with it," Eric said. "Why are you bothered now?"

"I just am!" Stephen exclaimed.

Eric shook his head. "I won't redo the script because you don't like the font. That's just ridiculous."

Eric went to grab the script and Stephen tried to grab it first but failed. He followed Eric out of his office and into the hallway.

"You have to change the font!" Stephen shouted, gaining nearby staffers' attentions.

"I won't!"

"Fine then!" 

Eric let his guard down, thinking that the argument was over, when Stephen swooped in and took the script from his hands.

Eric protested, "Hey--"

In one movement Stephen tore the script in half with his bare hands and let the remains flutter to floor, all the while wearing a scowl on face.

The shock Eric had during the whole event turned into fury. "What the hell man! The show starts in thirty minutes!"

"Then you should make another script quickly then," Stephen said calmly, smiling smugly.

Eric scowled at him. "You just tore up tonight's script. Don't you feel any regret over that?"

Stephen shook his head, frowning slightly. "Change the font, or I'll do it again," he warned, staring into Eric's eyes. Eric looked back, just in time to see Stephen's eyes flash black.

***888***888***

Present

"He was like that for awhile," Eric continued after he'd finished his story. "He told writers to rewrite whole segments because of a simple mistake. That's until we had enough."

"What did you do?" Jon asked, wondering about how Stephen became that way. His eyes flashing black, it was present in both stories. It reminded him of something that happened at lunch around a month ago, before all of this started...

"We decided to confront him yesterday," Dan said. "It kind of backfired on us though..."

***888***888***

Yesterday

Stephen was typing on his computer when the door opened and all of his writers piled into his office.

"What's going on?" he asked when they gathered around him wearing looks of concern and determination.

"This is an intervention," announced Michael.

"What?" asked Stephen in disbelief.

"You haven't been acting like yourself," Nate began.

"You've been bullying all of us for too long," Tom said. "It has to stop."

"I don't even know who you are anymore," Paul added. They all fell silent, waiting for Stephen's response.

Stephen's stare of disbelief he had been wearing while the writers spoke turned into a glare of annoyance when they finished.

Stephen said, "You have got to be kidding me."

"This is serious Stephen," Rich said. "You've been messing up our scripts lately and harassing the interns and we've all had enough."

"Oh, so that's what all of this is about!" Stephen exclaimed, grinning. "You're sick of me fixing your scripts. Well, the ratings are higher nowadays, and I think we know who to thank."

Meredith scowled. "It's a group effort, Stephen. You just can't change a whole script because you don't like it. We all agreed the script was good, it doesn't have to be at your standards."

"You all are wrong!" Stephen roared, anger suddenly spiking. "All of the scripts have to be at my standards, and you have to change them because my scripts are the best!"

"Then what's the point of having us if you're going to change everything we do into something you approve of?" Jay asked.

Stephen scowled. "You know what? You're right. I don't need you guys. I can write this show by myself!" he proclaimed.

"Stephen--" Meredith began, trying to convince Stephen to not do something he'll regret.

Stephen looked over them with disdain. "Don't come in tomorrow morning."

"What? Why?" Eric asked.

Stephen smiled grimly. "Because you're all fired."

"What?" was the general response of the writers.

"You can't do that," Scott argued, voice shaky.

"Yes I can," Stephen said, staring coldly at every ex-writer, "It's my show. I can do what I want." He grinned, and for a second his eyes turned coal black.

***888***888***

Present

"We thought he was kidding," Dan said, "But when we came to work this morning, we learned that we were banned from the building. We had nowhere else to go, so we came here. We thought you could help."

Jon thought for awhile. He knew that the flashing eyes thing was important. He also knew that there was a possibility that Stephen wasn't actually there. If there is a ghost inside Stephen Jon would have to face it alone. No one else knew it existed, and Jon would like it to stay that way.

"I'm going to talk to Stephen tonight," Jon decided. "After the show. Don't worry guys, you'll have your jobs tomorrow morning."

The writers grinned, and Jon felt great as he led them out of his office. Jon began to feel dread when he started to wonder if it would be worse to face a ghost or to know that Stephen had changed after all.

***888***888***

It had started to rain as Jon made his way to the Report studio. He called ahead to see if Stephen was staying late and it seemed he was, since he was singlehandedly writing the show. Jon was anxious to talk to Stephen and see what was going on so he opened the door to Stephen's office without knocking.

"Hello Jon," Stephen said casually as he worked on papers that crowded his desk.

"We have to talk," Jon began.

"About what?" Stephen asked.

"The writers, the interns, the anger...what's going on?"

"They don't listen!" Stephen exclaimed. "I am the boss here, and I'm right. If they don't listen then they shouldn't be here!"

"Stephen, you need to rehire the writers," Jon said. "You have to, or you'll get overwhelmed. Besides, you don't always need to have the last say on everything--"

"Yes I do! I'm the boss here, and I rule!" Stephen growled and his eyes turned black. Unlike the other times his eyes stayed that way. That's when Jon knew for certain something was wrong.

"You're not Stephen, are you?" he asked, already knowing the answer.

Stephen shook his head and grinned creepily.

"I have to get that ghost out of him," Jon vowed to himself, and unfortunately Stephen/the ghost heard.

"You won't take him from me!" Stephen screeched, and the window behind him shattered. Jon stepped back, his back pressed to the wall. "I won't let you!"

Stephen stood up, and a miniature hurricane whipped around him, making the papers and office supplies that littered Stephen's office fly around the room. 

Jon tried to avoid most of the flying debris, but got a few paper cuts. He knew he was in trouble if he stayed in the room so he began to open the door and ducked out before he could be hit by a flying stapler.

As soon as Jon scampered out to the hallway the door exploded, and Jon fell to the floor as shards of wood flew above him. He thought he avoided being hit, but when he stood up he felt a sharp pain in his leg. 

He didn't have time to examine his wound because at that moment Stephen stepped over the ruins of his office door. Jon knew he had only seconds left before Stephen noticed Jon on the floor and finished what he started. So Jon did the only thing he could do.

Ignoring the pain in his leg, he ran.

TO BE CONTINUED


	4. Chapter 4

Jon ran, with his heart thudding in his chest, down the hallway. Stephen focused his gaze onto Jon and held one arm up, palm facing outward. He stood still as his eyes glimmered darkly.

Jon, meanwhile, was focusing on getting to the end of the hallway before Stephen got to him. He turned back to see his progress, he saw Stephen just standing in the middle of the remains of Stephen's office door. 

Jon was confused about that, but he wanted to get out of the studio quickly so he began to turn back around when a force slammed him against a wall. The wall was lined with framed pictures of Stephen and when Jon slammed into it the paintings fell to the floor and glass shattered above him.

Jon suffered a few streaks of blood that some glass shards traced against his cheek. In shock, he turned to look at Stephen, whose arm was still outstretched, but now black smoke was wafting from his palm.

Jon looked at Stephen’s cruel smirk and knew he had done this. It seemed like the ghost had powers beyond affecting objects and could affect the living too. 

It was dangerous just to keep laying on the floor, so Jon scrambled to his feet and made for the end of the hallway, which led to the door to the stairs and an elevator.

Jon took the stairs, knowing that taking the elevator would be a mistake. Jon went down the stairs, and had just went down one floor when the door burst open and Stephen came in.

_“You’re not leaving!”_ Stephen cried out. Stephen’s voice was his but with a raspy quality to it, which was how Stephen described the ghost’s voice to Jon during lunch a month ago. Jon went down the stairs faster before things could escalate. 

Just as he came to the last step, the lights over him flickered and went out, leaving him in momentarily in darkness. Jon tripped on the last step and collapsed on the floor, crying out as he did so. The lights flickered back on, but Jon stayed where he was since he hadn’t heard a sound from Stephen and was wary about revealing his position. 

A cold rush of air came from behind Jon, which caused a shiver down his spine. He knew the feeling well, it happened whenever the ghost was near. Jon rolled over slowly to find Stephen three steps above him. Jon screamed.

Stephen glared murderously down at Jon, and raised his arm menacingly. Jon scooted back but hit a wall. He was cornered, and he didn’t know the amount of damage that the ghost’s powers had at short range. He jumped up and tried to open the door while keeping an eye on Stephen but his fingers kept slipping.

Stephen’s arm was smoking differently than the first time. This time there was dark purple smoke mixed with the black and Stephen’s eyes briefly glowed red. _“You won’t get out of here alive,”_ Stephen growled. Jon’s fear heightened when smoke began wafting from every part of Stephen’s body. Jon pressed his back against the door, resigned to his fate.

Just as Stephen was about to unleash his wrath on Jon and kill him, his arm wavered. His eyes changed from red to brown. To Jon this seemed like Stephen was reasserting control over himself, and he hoped it bought him the few seconds he needed to survive.

Stephen stumbled for a few seconds, stumbling slightly as he struggled to retract his arm. As he did so he looked up at Jon, pain etched across his face.

“Go,” Stephen commanded, his voice now normal. “Run!”

Jon took his advice and opened the door and ran through. He was mere yards away from the exit when Stephen broke through the door, back to being possessed. He looked at Jon’s closeness to the exit and scowled. And then he shrieked.

It wasn't a normal shriek, it was high to the point of almost being inaudible. Glass broke, frames shook, and Jon clamped his hands over his ears. It was obviously the ghost's doing. 

At first, Jon thought that the ghost was admitting defeat and giving Jon a final warning before letting him go, but when Stephen took a step forward Jon knew it was a distraction. The ghost wanted Jon to stay still long enough to get to him. The shriek made him not want to move his hands away from his ears and open the door, but he had to do it if he wanted to live to see tomorrow.

Despite the pain he felt, Jon removed his hands from his ears and got to work on opening the door. 

Once he opened it, he scrambled out, not pausing to rest before going down the front steps. He jogged as far from the studio as the increasingly painful injury in his leg would allow before taking a break.

Thanks to his injuries, he knew he probably couldn't go home. There would be too many questions that he won't be willing to answer. No, he would go to the nearest safe haven he had: _The Daily Show_ studio. There he could patch himself up and sleep the best he could.

The adrenaline rush he had during his escape had worn off, making his injuries more noticeable. The streets of New York were clear that night, so there was no one around to see how much Jon was in pain. By the time he stumbled into his studio, all of his body ached and he was dead tired.

He climbed the stairs to his office, still not trusting the elevator. He got a first aid kit and opened the door to his office. He turned on the light, and the sight he found shocked him.

The room was a wreck. Papers were scattered across the floor. His desk was flipped over and all that was previously on it was spread every which way around the room. To Jon, his office looked like a war zone.

Jon, a bit overwhelmed over how this night turned out, stared up, hoping to find the familiar blankness that was the ceiling. 

Unfortunately, when he looked above him, he saw something red. He squinted, and saw that there were words on the ceiling.

Written in what Jon presumed was blood was _Stay Away-- Or Else_.

Jon jerked back and panicked. He'd underestimated the range of the ghost's powers. Now nowhere was safe. 

But that didn't worry him too much, he briefly saw the real Stephen back at the _Report_ studio and that lit a spark of hope in his heart.

Jon stared at his ceiling, and said defiantly, "I won't give up, whether you like it or not!" He knew that somewhere, probably in the _Report_ studio, that the ghost heard him, and was outraged.

Jon sighed, and began to pick up the mess that was scattered across the floor. He was going to get Stephen back, no matter what.

TO BE CONTINUED


	5. Chapter 5

Jon, tired because of all he’s been through that night, fell asleep as soon as he cleared off part of floor. When he woke up, it was two hours before anyone came into work, so he tidied up the rest of his office as quickly as he could. He just got started on wiping the blood off his ceiling when the first of his staff came into the building.

The blood was resistant to coming off, so Jon transitioned to using a scrubber. The blood was half dry so it came off without much work, but it got soaked into his cuffs, making them dark red.

By the time John Oliver came around to call Jon to his morning writer’s meeting, Jon was climbing down from his desk, which helped him reach the ceiling. John began, “Jon, the meeting is in ten minutes--”

John paused, staring at Jon’s blood stained cufflinks and his bruised up body. "What the hell happened to you last night?"

Jon, knowing how bad he looked, decided to evade the question. “I know, my cufflinks are ruined. I have extra clothes somewhere, I'll wear them and go to the meeting when I'm finished, alright?"

John still looked wary so Jon added, "John, I'm fine, really. There's absolutely nothing to worry about."

John still looked worried but he decided to let the issue go for now. "See you in ten minutes."

John left, and Jon let out a sigh of relief. He knew that people were going to question his injuries eventually, so he needed a cover story. No one would believe the truth if he told it, which he won’t.

Jon took out his extra clothes from a drawer. Deciding against wearing his casual clothes, because they showed more than he wanted everyone to see, Jon chose instead to wear his spare suit.

He walked down the hall to the writers' room. The other writers had already settled in, and by the guilty looks they gave him as he walked in, the topic of conservation was Jon.

Jon decided to ignore that fact, and started the meeting as usual. But after a few awkward silences and some meaningful glances between the other writers Tom asked, "What happened last night Jon? You look awful."

Jon shifted in his seat nervously. "Nothing happened," he lied.

Tom frowned. "Jon, you can stop lying, we can see the cuts on your face."

Jon touched his cuts, he’d forgotten they were there. He knew the writers wouldn't back down, so he had to make up a story quickly.

Before he could make one up, the door opened and Eric Drysdale popped his head in. He began, "I didn't get any reluctant apology phonecalls from Stephen so I was wondering how last night went... What the hell happened Jon?"

"Nothing happened," Jon repeated.

Eric ignored what he said. "Oh no, did Stephen do that to you?"

Several of Jon's writers looked alarmed at that, and despite the fact that it was the truth, Jon couldn’t bring himself to confirm that Stephen attacked him. He didn’t really do it, he was possessed, and Jon didn’t want to blame Stephen and have his reputation ruined if--no when, he came back.

“No, of course he didn’t!” Jon denied quickly, too quickly judging by the looks of disbelief some writers wore. “I don’t want to talk about it, okay? Can we move on?”

Most writers looked like they didn’t want to, but Tom finally said, “Sure we can,” and they seemed to follow his lead. Jon smiled gratefully, Eric left, and everything went back to normal. Well, almost.

***888***888***

As the day wore on, Jon noticed that everyone kept their distance from him, exchanging a worried glance between one another. 

Every time he walked down the hallway, wincing slightly as each step ignited pain in his wounded leg, interns looked at him in pity. Every time he sat down, grunting because of one of his many bruises that riddled his body, his staff looked at him in concern.

Even as he went into makeup, the makeup artist looked curiously at his cuts as she applied his makeup. She eventually mustered up the courage to ask, "Want to talk about it?"

Jon shook his head so vehemently that the makeup artist decided to leave him alone and got to work hiding his cuts. 

During the question and answer session with his audience, an audience member asked, "Have you heard what's happening in the _Colbert Report_ studio? Stephen has been acting weird for over a month now. Less people want to go to the show because of how he treats the audience."

"Oh really now?" was all Jon said. He knew about how Stephen treated his staff, but he didn't know that Stephen's nastiness extended towards his audience. Knowing that that kind of behavior will ruin Stephen, Jon knew he had to get rid of the ghost as soon as possible.

"Have you talked to him since this began?" the audience member asked, and other members leaned in, interested in hearing the answer.

Jon suddenly had immense interest in the floor as he remembered how last night went down. Yeah, he talked to him lately, but he almost got killed.

Jon’s silence seemed to speak volumes, because another audience member mentioned, "I saw you limping as you came in earlier." Her eyes widened as a thought came to her. "Stephen didn't do that, did he?"

The audience looked shocked when she finished speaking, but seemed to come to the same conclusion. They all started to speak their condolences all at the same time. Jon took a step back, holding up his hands to stop the onslaught of pity.

"No, no, it's nothing like that. I just fell," Jon protested, and the audience backed off. During the commercials, however, he got sympathetic looks from them whenever the makeup artist came over to put more makeup over his cuts. 

At that moment Jon decided that he hoped that this never happened again. He couldn't do this alone, that was obvious. He needed help. And he needed it quickly.

***888***888***

Jon locked himself in his office after the show, and prepared himself for a long night of googling. Right before he got started, he suddenly remembered someone Stephen had talked about during lunch months ago.

Stephen had talked about his church's pastor, Pastor Peter Johnson. Pastor Johnson was a good friend of Stephen's but... 

_"He has studied demons and knows how to do an exorcism, that type of thing," as Stephen had said. Stephen had paused, getting a bite of his sandwich. "He really knows his stuff. I don't believe all that demon mumbojumbo, but he's a great pastor so I don't care."_

In the present Jon grinned, hope shining in his eyes. He's grateful that Stephen told him about Pastor Johnson because the pastor might just save his life. Jon was going to see Pastor Johnson as soon as possible and see if he could help.

"Don't worry Stephen, help is on the way," Jon whispered, and he felt hopeful that everything will be alright for the first time in a long while.


	6. Chapter 6

A few days later Jon found some time to head over to Stephen’s church. Jon felt uncomfortable walking inside a church, since he has rarely been to one. Today the church was nearly empty, and the only person he saw was a middle-aged man walking through the pews of the church.

“Pastor Johnson?” Jon guessed.

The man turned and smiled at him. “Yes, that’s me. I haven’t seen you at church; what brings you here?”

Jon shuffled uncomfortably, not knowing how to introduce himself. “Umm...Pastor, I’m Jon Stewart, a friend of Stephen’s...”

The pastor’s friendly face vanished to be replaced by a look of fury. “You mean Stephen Colbert?” When Jon nodded Johnson scowled. “I can’t believe he’s not man enough to come and face me himself!”

“What are you talking about?” Jon asked, confused.

Johnson raised an eyebrow. “Stephen, for the last few weeks, has missed Sunday School and every single church service. It’s so unlike him, so I thought I’ll call him and see what’s going on and you know what? He doesn’t answer!”

“Actually, I’m here to talk about that,” Jon said quickly. “I don’t think Stephen has actually been ‘Stephen’ for over a month now.”

That got the pastor’s attention. “What do you mean by that?” he asked, intrigued.

“I think Stephen’s been possessed by a ghost,” Jon said bluntly.

Johnson laughed. “Are you sure, Jon? Some people just change, it’s not always because of the supernatural.” 

“Well this time it is,” said Jon with conviction. “I’ve seen the ghost!” He told Pastor Johnson about the possession and the behavior Stephen has exhibited on his interns, his staff and himself afterwards. “I came to you because you know all about possessions and you’re a good friend of Stephen’s. Will you help?”

The pastor was silent for a while before he said, “Well, after hearing what you have to say, I too believe that Stephen may be possessed, but I don’t think it’s a ghost that’s doing it. Ghosts who possess people tend to do it for a short period of time and usually the person they harm the most is their host. The spirit that haunting Stephen, however, almost killed you and seems like it’s taken permanent residence in his body. I think something stronger is inside him, but I'll need to see him face to face to know for sure."

Jon grinned, happy that someone was on his side. "I could make that happen. I'm an executive producer of his show so I could get us inside Stephen's studio no problem."

Johnson smiled. "That's good. I assume that you won't tell Stephen about us coming."

Jon shook his head. "It's best we surprise the spirit, and see how it reacts."

The pastor nodded. "Tuesday alright for you?"

"Yep," Jon said, "and I sure Stephen will be free after the show too."

"See you Tuesday!" They shook hands and walked in opposite directions.

"See you!" Jon called out as he left the church. He was glad that there was progress. Maybe he'll soon get Stephen back.

***888***888***

Pastor Johnson and Jon met each other on Tuesday outside the _Report_ studio. Jon made sure they arrived right after _The Colbert Report_ filming so they can catch Stephen before he could do anything else.

Jon and Johnson passed the security desk and were about to go up the stairs when a security guard grabbed Jon's wrist.

"Mr. Stewart," he said, "You're not allowed to go beyond this point."

Jon wrestled out of the guard's grip. "What do you mean, 'not allowed'?"

The guard pointed to a bulletin board, and posted to it was the 'Banned From The Studio' list. On the list, below the names of all of the writers was, scribbled hastily, the name _Jon Stewart_.

Jon scowled, and felt anger seep into him. He couldn’t believe that Stephen had banned him, one of his executive producers, from the studio. It was more proof that Stephen wasn't himself, and Jon knew it had to end now.

"Look," he said, grabbing the guard's shirt collar. "Get Stephen to come down here, and get him to do it now!"

The guard, shocked at Jon's actions, stuttered out, "Yes sir," before running up the stairs.

Jon tapped his foot impatiently for a few minutes before Johnson asked, "Not on good terms with Stephen, I see?"

Jon nodded. "I'm the only one who knows what's really going on with him, and I think he sees me as a threat."

"Well if that's the way he sees you I think I should do the talking. We don't want him to get too angry."

Jon nodded, and a few minutes later Stephen was shoved into the room by the guard. Stephen took a quick glance and saw Pastor Johnson. His face paled in fear for a second before he managed to fake a smile.

"Pastor Johnson!" Stephen greeted with false cheeriness. "How's it going?"

Johnson frowned. "You haven't been to church in weeks! What's been going on?"

"Work," Stephen shrugged.

"Work hasn't been a problem before," Johnson said.

Stephen shifted uncomfortably. "I'm going to a different church now," he lied.

"I checked the local churches, you've never been to any of them." Johnson hadn't actually been to the other churches, he just wanted to mess with Stephen. It seemed to be working, Stephen was at a loss of words.

It was time to see what exactly was possessing Stephen. And the only way to know for sure is to catch him off guard and let it show it’s true colors."Stephen, it's like you're not yourself. It's like you've been possessed!"

That got to Stephen. He looked surprised, and fear was in his eyes. He finally noticed Jon, and his fear turned into anger.

"You told, didn't you? You told!" Stephen then did something unexpected. He tackled both Jon and Johnson to the ground. 

Before he could do anything else, the security guard quickly grabbed Stephen and dragged him away, with Stephen screamed the whole time.

_"Venio ad vos. Et interficiam te abesse!”_ Stephen yelled, his eyes black.

“I think you should leave!” the security guard advised. The pastor nodded, and lead the shocked Jon out the door. When they got outside, Jon asked shakily, “What did Stephen say back there?”

“That was Latin for ‘I'm coming for you. Stay away or I will kill you!’,” Johnson translated.

“Stephen doesn’t know Latin,” Jon informed him.

“Well, that makes what’s possessing him obvious,” Johnson said. “I believe that Stephen has been possessed by a demon.”

“A what?” Jon asked.

“A demon, one’s that apparently attached to this building,” Johnson explained. “I’m afraid the only way to get rid of it is to perform an exorcism. And since you’re close to Stephen, you should execute it.”

“Um, Pastor? Sorry to break it to you this late in the game but I’m Jewish,” Jon said. “I don’t think I should be performing an exorcism.”

“Then I’ll do it,” Johnson decided. “But you have to be there to provide support. From the looks of it, the demon is very strong and it’ll take a lot of effort on Stephen’s part to separate from it, especially since it’s been with him for so long.”

When Jon looked dismayed at that, Johnson said reassuringly, “We can make the process as painless as possible if we work together and you do everything I say. Alright?”

“Yes, Pastor,” Jon said.

“Good,” the pastor said. “Now clear your schedule, we have a demon to exorcise.”


	7. Chapter 7

Over the next few days Jon and Johnson formulated a plan to get the demon out of Stephen. By Thursday night they settled on a idea. On Friday morning they both went to Stephen’s studio to execute it. 

“Are you ready?” Johnson asked when they reached the front door. Johnson carried what he needed to perform the exorcism. Jon carried nothing, his job was to bring Stephen to a safe place to perform the act.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” Jon said right before they parted ways. Jon entered the building while the pastor stayed outside, planning to sneak inside after Jon. Jon walked to the security desk, and the guard standing by it looked at him in surprise.

“Mr. Stewart, you’re not allowed here,” he said.

“I know,” Jon admitted, “but I really need to talk to Stephen. Can I please go up?”

The guard looked hesitant. “I don’t know...”

Jon leaned towards him and said, “I can stop all of this, you know.”

“What do you mean?” the guard asked, confused.

“The chaos that’s around here. Stephen’s attitude. All of it. Everything will be back to normal if I go up there.”

The guard’s eyes widened. “Really?”

Jon smiled at him. “Yep.”

The guard seemed elated for a second before he was nervous again. “How about if you won’t be able to change anything?”

“That won’t happen,” Jon said with conviction. “Even if it did, I would try again and again until it works. I can’t let Stephen go on like this. It’ll ruin his life.”

The guard, seeing Jon’s determination said, “Fine. You can go. But if things go wrong don’t tell Stephen I allowed you in. He’ll fire me!”

“I won’t,” Jon promised, and he started to go up the stairs. He began to worry about how he was going to find Stephen when he heard loud shouts coming down the hall. Knowing it was Stephen who was yelling, Jon followed the voice to find that Stephen was shouting at some interns in the middle of the hallway. Jon took a moment to ready himself before he walked up to them.

“Hey Stephen!” he yelled.

Stephen instantly recognized his voice so when he turned around, a scowl was on his face. Before Stephen could speak, Jon tighten his hand into a fist and threw a right hook directly into Stephen’s face, knocking him out instantly. The interns glanced at Stephen’s unconscious form and gaped at Jon, who bent down to grab Stephen’s arms.

“I’m going to steal Stephen for a while, okay?” Jon said. The interns and looked relieved to not to be in Stephen’s presence, so they quickly walked away when Jon started to drag Stephen back down the hall. 

Jon arrived at an empty office, the one he and Johnson decided to perform the exorcism.

Johnson had most of his stuff set up, so he helped Jon tie Stephen up with rope so Stephen couldn't make his escape as soon as he woke up. 

"Remember Jon, don't let him touch you," Johnson said. "The demon seems to be able to transfer hosts that way." Jon nodded, and at that moment Stephen started to wake up.

"What the hell is going on?" he asked angrily when he realized he was tied up. When he looked up and saw the pastor, bible in hand, he knew what was going on. And he didn't like it one bit.

"No! You can't do this to me!" Stephen exclaimed as he started to tug on his bonds.

Jon said, "Stephen--”

“You can’t take me away from him! I’ll ruin your lives, I’ll kill you!” Stephen struggled to tear the rope off himself, wriggling across the floor like a worm. He looked up at Jon.

"Jon, buddy, you can't do this," Stephen pleaded, sounding like his old self. "This whole thing is crazy; we both know ghosts, much less demons, don’t exist. Let's just stop this exorcism thing and think for a minute, okay?"

Jon was tempted to believe that this was the real Stephen that he has waited so long to see again, but he knew it was probably a trick. "We have to finish this," he said.

Stephen scowled before unleashing a series of angry curses in Latin. Jon didn't understand most of it, but he could feel the anger radiating of Stephen. It was a bit unnerving to see Stephen directing this much hate towards him, but Jon knew that soon this will be over.

Johnson seemed to be fed up of Stephen's angry rant because he said, "I command you, demon, to be silent in the name of Jesus!” And with that, Stephen was efficiently silenced.

Stephen was even angrier now, judging by the murderous glares he gave to both Jon and Johnson. Stephen was on his knees, the ropes only binding his arms as he shuffled towards Jon, angry determination in his eyes. Before he could get far though, Johnson managed to utter out, "I command you, demon, in the name of Jesus Christ to leave Stephen Colbert's body now!"

Stephen started to shake then, collapsing onto the floor. Jon stepped back as Stephen shivered and looked like he wanted to scream. Stephen inched closer to Jon while writhing in pain. Using the last of his strength, Stephen broke from the rope and reached out to touch Jon's fingertip before Jon recoiled, feeling as if he was burned.

It was then the demon went out of Stephen's body.

***888***888***

For over a month now Stephen has been a prisoner in his own body. He fought the demon for a while, coming out briefly to do nice things after the demon had been particularly nasty to his staff. 

The demon had gotten stronger and Stephen subsequently got weaker as the demon continued to occupy his body. Stephen used the last of his strength to save Jon from the demon, and hasn’t had the energy to come out since. 

For a while Stephen retreated into his mental prison, fearing that soon his soul will be completely consumed by the demon. Stephen was nearing his last days when he felt the demon releasing its hold on him, and he slowly began to regain control of his body. He opened his eyes and relished in the feeling of being completely himself again.

For the first time in a long while, Stephen was free.

***888***888***

Johnson started reading from the Bible to help the process along, and soon the demon was fully out of Stephen’s body. Black smoke rose from Stephen’s now prone body, and Jon waited with bated breath to see if Stephen was still there.

Stephen eyes fluttered open, the color brown thankfully, and took in the sight of the room he was in. His eyes met Jon’s and he asked weakly, “Jon, where am I? The last thing I remember is eating lunch with you in my office... What happened since then?”

Johnson stopped reading and looked down at Stephen. “Glad you’re back with us, Stephen.”

Stephen’s eyes widened in surprise. “Pastor Johnson? What are you doing here?”

Johnson smiled. “It’s a long story. Jon, care to explain?”

Jon grinned at Stephen’s confused expression, glad he was back. “Well Stephen, you’ve been possessed by a demon for a month...”


	8. Chapter 8

“Are you sure this is absolutely necessary?” Stephen asked Jon one week later. They were in Stephen's studio lobby, and he was holding a large cake with icing that said 'Sorry I Was An Asshole To You For The Last Month' for the interns and newly rehired writers that suffered under the demon's rule.

Now, after Stephen took a weeklong break to recuperate, everything seemed to go back to normal. The banned from the studio list was nowhere to be seen, Stephen was his usual cheerful self, and his staff were slowly losing their fear of him. The cake was a way to speed up that process.

"Yes," Jon replied. "After what they've been through, this cake is the first of many things you have to do to regain their trust. You suddenly fired them, remember?"

Stephen sighed. "I still can't believe I did all those things. Are you sure the demon's gone?"

"Absolutely," Jon reassured him.

"Are there any other demons that are attached the studio?" Stephen asked, still worried.

"Nope, Johnson made sure of that before he left," Jon said.

“Okay, good.” Stephen took a deep breath. “So this place is safe now? No more haunting?”

“No more hauntings,” Jon repeated. “Seriously Stephen, you’re safe now.”

Stephen sighed again. “I know, I know, but...I just have a feeling that the demon is still here somewhere.”

“It’s not, trust me,” Jon said as he slapped Stephen on the back. “Just go on and do your show, everything's going to be fine.”

Stephen seemed to be conflict for a few seconds before he smiled. “Thanks Jon. You’re a great friend, you know that?”

Jon smiled at him. “Seriously Stephen, you have a show to do.”

Stephen nodded, and walked to the stairs, carefully balancing the cake in his arms. “Sometimes I wonder where the demon is now,” he wondered to himself as he disappeared up the stairs.

Jon’s smile turned into a scowl as soon as Stephen disappeared from view. “You have no idea how close I am, Stephen.” Jon spun around to face the door out, and his eyes flashed black menacingly.

Jon smirked and laughed maniacally as he walked out, heading for the _Daily Show_ studio. He had some more lives to ruin.


End file.
